A Worthwhile Existence
by the-blossom-and-the-bee
Summary: Sherlock AU set in early 19th century England. Molly Hooper is the daughter of a wealthy Lord who is being forced to get married, despite her longing to have adventures and freedom and fall in love. All Sherlolly goodness!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was started completely out of wanting something to do to waste hours until I have to work. Obviously it's a Sherlock fanfiction with inspiration drawn from Jane Austen's works. Please enjoy, I LOVE reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of Sherlock characters.**

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><p>"Molly, dear, your father and I must speak with you," Molly's mother, Lady Emma Hooper, spoke softly when she entered her daughter's room.<p>

"Yes, Mother," Molly joined her mother and the two trekked downstairs. Molly's father was seated in the drawing room.

"Good morning, Papa." Molly bent down to give her father a peck on the cheek before perching on a sofa.

"Molly, your mother and I have been thinking. You're 18, you've been out in society for two years, and have yet to receive and proposals of marriage," Henry Hooper explained.

Molly bit her lip, her eyes wide, "I told you before, I haven't met anyone that-, I'm not-," Molly struggled to find words. "I want to fall in love," she demanded adamantly.

Henry gave a gentle look of sympathy, he understood his daughter's feelings, but his wife had other plans.

"Molly, you are not growing any younger, and neither is your father. We want you to be taken care of, to be provided for. Your father can't do that forever. You need a husband."

"Mother, I don't _need _a husband. I'm happy, I'm taken care of, and Father is healthy," Molly argued.

"Molly, be reasonable," Emma commanded.

"Mother, I'd rather be alone and poor and content than married and miserable," Molly's face twisted with confusion and worry.

Henry sighed; he hated his daughter to be upset.

"Molly, in fortnight we will hold a ball. I've had invitations sent out to all eligible men and their families. You are to meet them and dance and impress them while your father I will work to make you a suitable match," Lady Hooper spoke firmly.

Molly glanced down at her hands folded in her lap, "Do I even have a choice?" Her voice was soft and hesitant.

Molly lifted her eyes. Her parents' faces were apologetic. She tore from the room, running out the back door of the manor. She hurried through the gardens, through the back gate and across the rolling hills of the English countryside.

She only stopped when she ran out of breath and had a stitch in her side. _Why did she have to get married? Why couldn't she wait? Why did it have to be forced? What was wrong with falling in love? _She had run nearly the entire way to her favorite place in the world. It was a spot on the brook near the edge of her father's land. There was a cluster of boulders in the stream, where the fresh water rushed over the stones. Molly wandered to her secret place. At the bank of the stream she removed her shoes and stockings and waded into the flowing creek. _This life, the freedom and adventures, I don't want to give this up for some man_._ I want a life worth living._ The cool, clear water washed over her feet and ankles as Molly walked through the brook, holding up the skirt of her dress. She climbed up the boulders and perched herself atop the largest rock. _Why can't my mother just understand?_ She stretched out on the flat top of the boulder and lied there, listening to the rushing stream, until the stars came into the sky and shined down through the trees.

The sky was completely dark by the time Molly started to stroll back home. She walked quietly through the garden and crept around to the front of the manor. She spotted her mother embroidering by candlelight in the front parlor. Molly couldn't face her mother, not now.

Molly edged along the walls of the house to the kitchen door. She snuck inside, grabbing a dinner roll and slathering it with preserves as she passed through the kitchen. She walked slowly up the staircase, taking them slowly to avoid creaking. She slid through her bedroom door and was about to collapse on her bed when she saw her father, relaxing on the settee at the foot of her bed.

She froze in place, staring at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't think of any excuse of explanation.

Henry rose from his position and approached his daughter. He pushed her brown hair, which had fallen from its bun during the course of the day, away from her face.

"Molly, darling, I'm sorry, truly. I wish there was something that I could do, but your mother has a point. If something were to happen to me there's no one to care for you. I want you to be provided for, that's all. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I see no other option."

Molly's eyes filled with tears at her father's sincerity, "I understand."

"I love you, sweet girl," Henry kissed her forehead.

"I love you, papa," Molly replied.

Lord Henry exited the room, leaving Molly with her thoughts, wondering if she would ever lead a fulfilling, worthwhile existence.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This was written late at night while watching Netflix, so I apologize for any [probably lots] of spelling/grammatical errors. I will try to go back and fix them eventually.**

**Thanks a bunch for reading. Please review!**

**Chapter 3 to come soon!**

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><p>The next morning, Molly laid in bed until the sun was high in the sky. Eventually she rose and wandered downstairs for breakfast.<p>

"Molly," Lady Hooper called, "I'm just starting preparations for your ball, would you like to assist me?"

Molly looked at her mother thoughtfully, "Mother, this is your dance, not mine," she said and left the room.

Emma followed her daughter. "Aren't you the least bit excited?"

"Mother, you know I don't want this. I don't want this ball, I don't want that life, but I don't have a choice. That isn't something to be excited over."

"Molly, I'm sorry-"

"I know, Mother. I know you don't feel like you have a choice. I'm going for a ride, I'll be back later."

Molly strolled through the kitchen, nabbing a cloth sack and filling it with bread and apples as she went. She left through the back door and trekked to the stables where she saddled up her mare, Daisy. Together, they rode across the Hooper's land .

When Molly was far enough from the house she pulled the pins out of her hair, letting chocolate brown curls flow wildly in the breeze. She laughed at the brisk wind rushing over her face, making her eyes water.

Soon she came upon the destination of her trip. The orphanage was situated a few miles from the manor. It was small and rundown, lacking proper resources and food for the children. Molly loved the place and the children. Every Thursday she brought food to the orphanage and spent hours with the children reading and playing games.

"Miss Molly!" little Martha cried when she saw Molly approach on her horse. The other children spotted Molly and ran up to greet her.

She gave each of them a hug and passed out the treats she brought. She loved the sweet children, the way their faces lit up when she visited. These visits were what Molly lived for, not for a lifelong attachment to a man she didn't even know.

Molly spent the next two weeks avoiding her Mother's requests about helping to plan the dance. Molly pushed off all the questions and suggestions, fighting her mother. But despite Molly's actions, the ball still was planned and she was forced to attend the evening dressed in a new gown.

Molly edged along the outer ring of the room, avoiding the prying eyes of the guests. She barely raised her eyes when she was asked, for the seventh time that evening, for a dance. She simply offered her hand. When the dance was over the boring man walked away and Molly returned to her father's side.

"Molly, are you enjoying yourself?" Henry asked hopefully.

"Not in the slightest," Molly smirked cheekily at her father.

"I have someone to introduce to you. He's only just moved Stafford Park," Lord Hooper led his daughter by the arm across the ballroom, "Lord Sherlock Holmes, allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Molly Hooper."

"Pleased to meet you," the man bowed the Molly, which she returned with a curtsy.

Sherlock stood awkwardly, his hands pressed together. His face was somber and his eyes piercing.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked.

Molly nodded politely, taking Lord Holmes' hand.

The musicians began to play and Molly and Sherlock moved around the room.

"You don't want to be here, do you?" Sherlock asked.

"Is it obvious?"

"Yes, your face is unhappy. And it's obvious by your appearance that you didn't care to spend much time preparing for the evening, you could be much more attractive than you are now if you had tried harder."

Molly gaped at Lord Holmes, "Are your manners always this poor?"

"I'm observant. And honest," he stared at her, "I can tell you that your mother is only holding this dance to find you a match because you're eighteen and she's worried with your independence that you'll never find a husband and she's determined on not having the only daughter in the county who never marries. She's correct in her thinking, you aren't getting any younger nor more appealing."

"You must be one of the most prideful and distasteful men I've met. And I'd rather be a lonely spinster than marry a man such as yourself," Molly ripped her hands from Sherlock's and rushed from the room. She spent the rest of the evening avoiding dancing and her mother.

Late that night, Molly sat on a stool in front of her mirror pulling a brush through her hair when her mother entered the room.

"Did you enjoy your dance tonight?"

Molly looked at her mother, giving her an answer without words.

"Well even if you didn't enjoy yourself your father and I have been discussing and we believe we have found you a perfect match. He's respectable, he comes from money, he's well-read and travelled. He's lovely."

Molly did her best to stop her eyes from filling with tears, "Well, if I have no choice, then who is he?"

"Lord Sherlock Holmes."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: again, I'm writing way past my bedtime. Sorry about the mistakes and if you point them out I'll correct them!**

**I did my best to research some of the topics in this chapter and customs and societal norms of the Regency period, some of the results were inconsistent so I worked with what I could. This is not historically accurate in any way.**

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><p>Molly paced nervously in the front parlor awaiting the arrival of her <em>betrothed<em> she thought with disgust.

Emma had planned the outing for the two; they were going on a carriage ride. Her stomach turned at the thought of sitting in an enclosed carriage with Sherlock while being driven around by one of his servants so they had no other choice but to speak to each other.

"He's here, he's here," Lady Hooper sang.

Molly smoothed her dress and walked to the door, without bothering to check her reflection in the mirror in the front hall.

Henry Hooper opened the door and stepped out onto the veranda with Molly next to him. Molly was surprised, and relieved, to see that it was not a covered carriage in front of the manor, but a small horse drawn buggy, driven by Lord Holmes himself.

Sherlock and Molly's father shook hands and spoke quietly for a moment before Sherlock approached Molly.

"Shall we?" He offered an arm.

Molly linked her arm in his and walked to the buggy where Sherlock helped her up into the vehicle.

They rode in uncomfortable silence for a while, until they were out in the countryside.

"I know you are not please about our marriage. But I think it will be advantageous for the both of us, or so I'm told."

"I do not see a requirement for being wed for the reason of it being advantageous."

Sherlock looked at her, his blue and green eyes wide.

Sherlock did not attempt to make conversation after that until they had reached a grove of trees that formed a tunnel of sorts as the tops of the trees were wide enough to interlock.

"This is the very edge of my land. My father planted these rows of trees when he and my mother married. Now they've grown into this," he gestured to the tunnel.

Sherlock stopped the buggy and dug into his coat pocket. He pulled out a thin gold band decorated with an deep green emerald that had thin strands of gold intricately wrapped around it, securing it to the band.

"This is for you, as a symbol of our upcoming marriage."

Molly bit her lip. _T__his is really happening._ she held out her hand, which Sherlock grasped in his own. He carefully slid the ring onto her left hand.

Neither Molly nor Sherlock said anything. He picked up the reins and flicked them. The couple traveled to the Hooper's home noiselessly.

For the duration of their engagement Molly was subjected to weekly outings with Sherlock, most of which were awkward and lacking in conversation, and hundreds of discussions with her mother about wedding plans.

It was the eve of the wedding and Sherlock and Henry had spent a majority of the evening locked up in Lord Hooper's study discussing something of questionable importance.

Sherlock left the study, holding his hat in his hands. He approached Molly.

"Good night, Miss Hooper," he leaned in very close to her ear, "Suppose you try harder in your appearance tomorrow than you did at your ball. You _could_ be a very lovely bride."

Molly's body filled with rage. He may not have much of a choice in marrying her and he may be her husband as of tomorrow, but that didn't give him the right to insult her whenever he pleased. She clenched her jaw and raised her hand quickly, slapping him hard in the face. She ran upstairs to her bedroom, surging with hatred and dread.

Sherlock clutched his stinging cheek. Perhaps he deserved that. Sherlock wasn't always good at conversing with people, he always seemed to disappoint or upset them. His intentions were good, he was trying to help Molly, he wanted her to look beautiful, but she was displeased with him. He so wanted to make her happy.

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><p>Molly Hooper, soon to be Mrs. Molly Holmes, stared at herself in the mirror, unimpressed. Her hair was softly curled and pulled into a knot on top of her head with a few tendrils falling and framing her face. Her ivory dress had a high collar, covering most of her neck, and long sleeves, both made of a delicate lace. The empire waist was highlighted with ivory silk and below was a skirt, completely made of lace, that fell to the floor and had a short train trailing behind her. She couldn't deny that she looked beautiful but it was obvious on her face that she wasn't in favor of this wedding. If she could see it on her face then Sherlock would as well.<p>

Molly regretted this, and pitied Sherlock. If she didn't want to get married what made her think Lord Holmes did . And even if he didn't object to marrying Molly who would want to marry someone who despised him?

Double doors opened up to the chapel, to a few dozen members of family and close friends, all standing and staring at Molly. She marched stoically up the aisle ignoring the burning in her eyes. Sherlock was smiling, maybe he thought she was actually beautiful today.

He looked nice when he smiled, handsome. _He should smile more often._

The wedding passed without incident, as did the breakfast banquet afterwards. Molly avoided sprinting out of the church or bursting into tears. They were announced man and wife. People cheered and threw their shoes while the couple climbed into a carriage. And that was it. Molly Hooper was now Lady Molly Holmes.

The newlyweds' carriage ride home was silent. Luckily, business kept Sherlock from going away on a honeymoon. Hopefully Molly could find some sort of solace in her grand new house.

Molly still didn't trust herself to speak but she noticed Sherlock eyeing her, the expression on his face almost apologetic.

They approached their home, Stafford Park, quickly. Molly admired the beautiful architecture. It was a grand white building with columns lining the front veranda and tall windows decorating the walls.

Sherlock helped Molly down from the carriage and into her new life.

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><p><strong>[All credits for the idea of Molly slapping Sherlock go to Khaleesi Cosima Laufeyson. Thanks for the lovely idea!]<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: A lifetime supply of free hugs goes to anyone who reviews. Thanks, friends.**

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><p>Sherlock stepped out of the carriage and offered his hand to Molly. She took it politely.<p>

"Would you like a tour of the manor while your things are brought to the bedroom, Mrs. Holmes?"

Molly coughed forcefully, "Please, Molly. And yes please, I'd like to know my way around the house."

The two entered the grand house. The foyer had marble flooring and a large staircase curved down from the second floor.

"The drawing room is there, to the left. The dining room is on the right," Sherlock led Molly behind the stairs, "this is the kitchen and the pantry through there," he pointed to a door in the back of the kitchen which was wide and open with a huge wooden worktable in the center.

"Here is the study, I do most of my work in there but you may join me in there whenever you'd like." A desk stood underneath the single window and the remainder of the room was filled with shelves and other tables covered with papers.

The husband and wife traveled down a long hall.

Sherlock opened one of the doors, "this is the gallery," the walls were decorated with beautiful paintings and drawings.

"Here next to it is the music room," it was furnished with a grand piano and had two large glass doors leading to a garden. Molly admired the piano. At home they had a small spinet, but that was nothing compared to this. It was lovely.

"Are you pleased with it? Do you play?" Sherlock interrupted her admirations.

"I do, and yes, I am delighted," Molly gave one last look to the music room before following Lord Holmes.

"And this is another parlor," Sherlock walked to the back windows, showing Molly the extensive gardens. "The gardens make up nearly half an acre of the property," he explained.

Next they went upstairs where Molly was shown guest bedrooms and finally their own bedroom.

A huge four-poster bed with fluffy bedding, down pillows, and gauzy curtains strung up around it filled the middle of the room. A tufted bench was placed at the foot of the bed and small matching tables were on either side of the head of the bed. The room also held a vanity with a mirror and a bench and two cushioned chairs, facing each other. To the right of the bed was a set of glass doors that opened up to a balcony overlooking the lawn.

Molly felt uncomfortable standing in the bed chamber she would be sharing with the stranger next to her. She quickly left the room.

Sherlock took her downstairs, "I'll show you my favorite room," he led her down a different corridor and swung open a heavy wooden door, "this is the library."

The library had high ceilings, taking up both stories of the house. Three of the walls we covered in shelves and books while the fourth was all windows.

Along the middle of the walls, where the first floor ceiling would have been was a ledge for walking and reaching the higher books. Each shelf had its own ladder to reach the highest books.

Molly's face lit up. Her eyes flew around the room, taking in all the books.

"Do you like it?" Sherlock hoped she enjoyed the library.

"It's fantastic," she answered adamantly.

"I have work that needs to be done," Sherlock explained, "explore wherever you would like. I'll find you when dinner is prepared," Sherlock left the room.

Molly looked around the library a bit. All the books were organized neatly by category and author. It would be a very lovely place to spend her time at Stafford Park.

She then walked out of a door covered with glass panes and onto a back veranda. An extensive labyrinth of foliage stretched farther than Molly could see.

Stone paths were lined with shrubs, bushes, daffodils, foxglove, Jacob's ladder, poppies, primrose, and honeysuckle. Carved wood benches were scattered about and much of the walking paths were shaded by willows and cherry trees.

Molly returned to her bed chamber, where her trunk had been brought and unpacked. She changed into a different gown, a sage green one, and tugged on a pair of gloves and her bonnet before going for a stroll.

It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was warm and a light wind toyed with the ribbons on her bonnet. The air was fragrant from all the blooms.

Molly might have been able to enjoy her walk and adore her new home if it hadn't been ruined by her husband. Despite the drastic change in Molly's life, she still planned on sneaking away each week to visit the orphanage, but how was she to go on adventures while being tied to Sherlock Holmes?

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><p>Sherlock searched for Molly a few hours later when he found her seated daintily upon a bench in the garden, reading a novel.<p>

"Would you care to join me for dinner?" Sherlock asked his wife politely.

"Yes, sir," she agreed, closing her book.

"Sherlock," he corrected.

The couple walked back to the house and entered through one of the back doors that led to the kitchen. Molly observed two place settings arranged on the worktable in the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind, but when I don't have guests I don't often use the dining room."

_Sherlock Holmes could be easygoing?_ Molly was shocked.

They ate quietly and quickly, barely speaking to each other. Molly retired to the library after the meal, where she was soon after joined by Sherlock. They shared to room for the evening reading and occasionally speaking politely to the other.

Molly felt a surge of disappointment overwhelm her. This was it. She was married, she was tied down. She couldn't have the grand adventures she dreamed of nor see the world as she wanted. She was forever connected to Lord Sherlock Holmes, whether she wanted it or not.

**A/N: So when I thought of the kind of library Sherlock would have in his home I basically just thought of the castle library from Beauty and the Beast [A.K.A. my lifelong goal, a true marker of success, and the main reason I'm considering marrying rich.]**

**This is a slightly boring chapter. It's a lot of description rather than action or dialogue. But I did research and read a ton of different articles about Regency era customs, architecture, clothing, etc. and it begged to be shared. **

**Sorry if you find it unexciting, please review anyways!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Again, sorry about the errors, point them out and I'll fix them! Thanks all, for reading and reviewing!**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter...there will be lots of good, sweet, fluff!**

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><p>Entertaining herself for the next few months was easy. She explored all the rooms of the huge manor. She traveled the hall, the ballroom, multiple parlors, and all the back stairways and hidden corridors. She spent a majority of her time reading through the library or strolling the grounds.<p>

She waited on friends and neighbors who came around for tea. She planned dinners and played hostess for Sherlock's colleagues and together they attended every dance and dinner party to which they were invited, while Molly posed prettily with a mask of content and arm in arm with her husband.

Molly still traveled to the orphanage in secret every Tuesday. She always packed sacks of food, as the Holmes' kitchen was bountiful. Molly could never give up her visits to the children, despite what Sherlock might think, it was important to her.

Molly was sneaking into the kitchen on a Tuesday morning when Sherlock found her.

"Molly, Mr. Pennington and his wife will be joining us for the noon meal today."

"Oh, alright then," Molly was distracted, thinking about how she would get away now. Mrs. Pennington was a very chatty lady, often they'd come for luncheon and stay past afternoon tea and leave not long before dinner. How was she to see her beloved children now?

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, noticing her absentmindedness.

"Yes, yes I'm fine."

The afternoon was long, listening to Mrs. Pennington drone on with gossip and the men discuss business. The couple left shortly after tea and Molly hurried out a side door once they were gone to go to the stables.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Molly called once she arrived at the rundown building.

"We missed you!" the children all yelled at her.

The food was passed around and Molly savored the goodness and peacefulness of being in a place she loved.

It was later than usual when she arrived back at the manor. She crept in through the back library door and walked to the kitchen to check on dinner.

She found Sherlock in his study, waiting for her.

"Shall we dine in here tonight?" he asked her.

Molly agreed and one of the maids brought in two plates of food.

"Molly, I have a question for you?"

"Yes?" she looked up at him.

"Where do you go every Tuesday?" he looked curious rather than angry.

Molly tensed up, not quite sure what to say, "Well, it's a place I've visited for years. And these children live there, and…" her voice trailed off.

"Would you take me there?" Sherlock was gentle and hesitant.

Molly could only stutter in surprise.

"It's important to you, so I'd like to see it," Sherlock explained. He knew Molly left every Tuesday but he never knew where she went. He figured if she went every week it must be important to her and that made it important to him also.

"Yes, we can go," Molly agreed nervously.

"Tomorrow?" he requested excitedly.

"Tomorrow."

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><p>"It's an orphanage," Sherlock took in the crumbling stone building, falling over gates, and a roof that desperately needed a patching up.<p>

"They have very little money. I bring bread, meat, apples, anything that has been leftover and bring it here for the children to eat. Otherwise they don't get much."

Sherlock pulled the buggy to a stop and tethered the horses. He helped Molly from the carriage and they entered the orphanage.

"Miss Molly," little Martha ran towards Molly, embracing her tightly.

One of the ladies who helped to run the orphanage approached Molly, "we weren't expecting you today."

"This is my husband, Lord Holmes, he wanted to pay a visit."

Sherlock had gone off, walking around the orphanage taking it all in. His face contorted with emotion as he saw the thin children, dirty clothes, and worn out beds.

Molly followed him, watching his reaction.

"You come and take care of these children each week, help them?"

"Oh, it's not much. I love it though," Molly bit her lip.

"No, you're wrong. It's wonderful. You are, your heart, it's wonderful," he said sweetly.

Molly gaped at Sherlock. He was being kind to her. He was smiling at her.

"We have money, what if we gave a few thousand pounds a year, would that help them?"

"You would do that?" Molly questioned, unbelieving.

Sherlock just smiled back at her, the skin around his eyes crinkling up.

He was changing, it seemed. He was gentle and kind. Molly was in awe of this seemingly new man, wondering how far it would go. If she wasn't careful, he might win her heart yet.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: A short one, but hopefully a good one! Let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!**

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><p>Since visiting the orphanage Molly and Sherlock had been much more amiable. Sherlock had let Molly see that he did have a heart and Molly had be less standoffish with her husband.<p>

They began speaking to each other regularly and having conversations over dinner. Sherlock really was a brilliant man, he saw and observed everything. It became a favorite pastime of Molly's to have guests and then listen to Sherlock deduce their actions and expressions once they had left. Molly asked Sherlock to explain his business which he gladly did.

They often read together and discussed their favorite novels while sipping tea until the wee hours of the morning.

Even though Molly never got to fall in love and be swept off her feet, she was grateful for the friendship blossoming between her and Sherlock.

Today Molly had settled herself in the music room. She had opened the drapes so early afternoon sunlight streamed in, casting shadows on the floor. Molly sat in front of the polished grand piano, filing through sheet music. None of the songs she usually played reached out to her today so she put away the music and decided to play something from the heart.

She played her own elaborate song passionately. She was in her own world for a few minutes.

Molly whipped her head up to the sound of shoes tapping on the floor.

"That was beautiful, Molly," Sherlock approached her, taking a seat next to her on the bench, "I've always liked the sound of a piano, though I've never been able to play much myself."

"You own this gorgeous piano and you don't even know how to play?"

"My mother tried to teach me as a child. I, however, was too stubborn to practice."

Molly let out a laugh which made Sherlock beam.

"Would you teach me?" Sherlock asked.

"Alright. Watch my hands." Molly gently placed her hands on the ivory keys. She moved her fingers slowly and precisely, the notes blending together to form a tune.

Sherlock rested his long fingers on the same keys and attempted to follow the same pattern Molly had just played. His notes were choppier and he missed many of the notes.

Sherlock glanced at Molly with one eyebrow raised up.

She grinned, "Put your hands here," she grasped his wrists and placed them on the proper keys. She slid her hands onto the same keys so Sherlock's hands covered her own.

"Follow my hands."

She began to play her song, Sherlock kept his hands over Molly's and shadowed all of her movements. The delicate song poured out of the piano, filling the room with sweet music.

Molly smiled at the man next to her when the song was over, her brown eyes warm and kind.

"Beautiful," Sherlock whispered, commenting on the woman beside him rather than the song.

Molly bit her lip. Sherlock's vibrant blue-green eyes gazed at her intensely. His eyes flicked to her lips making Molly gulp.

Sherlock bent closer to Molly, lowering his mouth nearer to hers.

Molly's heartbeat kicked up in panic. She stood up abruptly, the piano bench scraped against the floor.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, turning and fleeing the room.

She hurried outside for fresh air and rubbed her hand across her face. _I almost kissed him. I almost kissed Sherlock. _Her mind raced. _Sherlock wanted to kiss me. _Molly shook her head to clear her thoughts.

Molly was torn between her growing feelings for her husband and her determination to be independent and adventurous. As Molly walked thoughts of Sherlock overtook her head. Despite everything she tried to tell herself, there was one thing she couldn't deny.

Molly had fallen for Sherlock Holmes.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The final installment in this story. Please enjoy and review! I hope you all love it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for reading! XOXO**

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><p>Molly entered the bedroom to find Sherlock already there, sitting up in their bed.<p>

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I…" Molly didn't know what to say.

"You don't have to apologize, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you," Sherlock's voice was sincere.

"Don't be, it's alright." Molly told him.

An awkward silence settled over the room. Molly seated herself at her vanity to brush her long brown hair. After, she pulled back the sheets and blankets on the bed and crawled in next to Sherlock.

"Can I ask you a question, Molly?" Sherlock was tentative, "What do you want?"

Molly shook her head at him, "I don't understand."

"What do you want in life? What are your dreams?"

Molly gawked at Sherlock, her mouth open in surprise. She had to think for a moment before answering his question.

"I want adventures. I want to make a difference in someone's life. I want to mean something. I want to," Molly became reticent as she said the last one, "fall in love, and be swept off my feet."

She stared into the darkness of the room, not being able to look at Sherlock.

Sherlock remained silent so Molly turned to look at him. His face was illuminated by the bright moonlight streaming through the lacy curtains. He looked lost in thought.

Sherlock turned to her and without saying anything he pressed his lips to her temple before lying down and pulling the covers over himself and going to sleep.

Confused, Molly struggled to sleep, staying awake for most of the night deep in thought.

Molly woke up late the next morning and Sherlock was already gone from the bed chamber. She dressed and then went downstairs. While eating one of the maids walked up and informed her that there was someone at the door for her.

Molly left her meal and walked to the front entrance, curious who would be calling. She pulled open the door to see Sherlock standing on the other side with a mischievous grin on his face.

"What are you doing out here?" She questioned, perplexed.

Sherlock removed his hat, "I've come to respectfully request your presence this afternoon for tea and a stroll through the gardens," he tried to ask seriously but his mouth gave way to a beaming smile.

"Why?" Molly laughed as the silliness of his proposition.

"Will you join me?" Sherlock persisted.

"I suppose so," Molly eyed Sherlock, trying to figure him out, "would you like to come in?"

"Why yes, thank you."

Later that afternoon Molly walked to the drawing room to meet Sherlock for tea.

"Miss Molly, it's lovely to see you again," Sherlock grasped her hand and lifted it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on her fingers. He then walked to the table to pull out a chair and help Molly sit.

Sherlock acted like a perfect gentleman and when tea was over he fetched Molly's parasol and took her arm as they strolled through the gardens.

"Sherlock, why?" Molly finally asked him the question that had been on her mind all day.

Sherlock stopped suddenly to turn to face his wife, "you said it was your dream to fall in love. I don't know if you will ever be able to fall in love with me, but I want to try. I want to court you and sweep you off your feet."

Molly's face lit up and blood rushed to her cheeks. She flung herself at Sherlock, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He slid his arms around her waist and embraced her tightly.

"This is very inappropriate for two people who have only just begun courting," Sherlock joked.

Molly stepped back, "Oh yes, I am very sorry. Would you walk me back home?"

"I think I could do that," Sherlock grabbed Molly's arm again and they walked back to their shared home in the fading sunlight.

* * *

><p>Two days after the walk through the garden Molly awoke to a note by her bedside. It was from Sherlock, asking her to join him for a special lunch. She sent him a letter agreeing.<p>

At noon Molly and Sherlock met in the kitchen where Sherlock was handed a large basket presumably filled with their meal. Together they walked to the stable on the property where they each mounted a horse. They rode for a while, side by side. At the edge of a small lake they stopped and dismounted. The afternoon was spent sitting on the bank and eating and talking and laughing.

Sherlock romanced Molly daily, in hopes of sweeping her off her feet and fulfilling her dream. He wanted her to know what it felt like to fall in love, something he had already accomplished.

* * *

><p>For months, Molly had been fighting her growing feelings for Sherlock. He was sweet and kind but Molly still felt empty. She felt like something was missing, something worthwhile. And she needed that.<p>

Today, Sherlock had something very special planned for his wife.

They wandered to the grove of trees, far on the edge of Sherlock's land, where he had taken her right after their engagement, when he had given her the engagement ring.

Sherlock didn't disclose to Molly where they were going, only smiled secretively whenever she asked.

Finally the couple reached their destination. Sherlock paused, pulling Molly to him.

"Molly, my dear," Sherlock looked deeply into her eyes, "these past months have been so wonderful. I've so loved the time we've spent together and-" Sherlock stopped abruptly, seeing the sadness in Molly's eyes, "what is it?"

"Sherlock, it has been so good but, it's not what my soul craves. My heart needs to do something for people, to make a difference, to change something. And I just I haven't-" Molly couldn't continue, her voice broke and her eyes welled with tears.

"Oh Molly," Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist tugging her against his body, "Molly, you don't have to change the entire world when you've already changed my whole world. Can't you see, you've changed me? I'm a better man and it's all because of you."

Molly glanced up, gazing into Sherlock's eyes, "Me?"

Sherlock nodded.

Molly's heart filled with joy. She felt content and satisfied. She meant something. Her existence was valued, she was worthwhile.

Sherlock eyes looked through hers, asking a silent question which she answered with a nod.

Sherlock lowered his head, pressing his lips gently to hers. Their kiss started soft and sweet, building up to become passionate and strong. Sherlock broke the kiss, leaving Molly breathless. Her eyes sparkled with caring emotion.

"Darling," Sherlock pushed Molly's hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her jaw, "you brought light into the world, you breathed life into me. You make me wonderfully, indescribably, blissfully content. And I love you with everything I have."

Molly gripped both sides of Sherlock's face pulling him close and pushing her lips against his again. They held each other firmly, never wanting to let go, in the diminishing light of the setting sun.


End file.
